Recrudescence
by Hudly
Summary: Recrudescence: A new outbreak after a period of abatement or inactivity. To break out anew or come into renewed activity, as after a period of quiescence. A return of something after a period of abatement.


**(A/N):** Well, here we go again. Another story. I have really enjoyed the idea for this story, and although it isn't extremely original (you get three guesses as to what kind of story it is after reading this prologue) but the execution (at least in my mind) is quite original. And I like to think I bring my own personal flair to my writing, so it makes the experience that much more enjoyable. It's sadly not much more enjoyable because of my personal flair, but it can be just a _little_ bit more enjoyable. :smiley face: Enjoy the prologue. It was extremely fun to write.

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**:Recrudescence:**

**:Prologue:**

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_CRASH!_

The horizon was lit up by a large bolt of lightning, striking the ground with intense fury, its thunderous cry reverberating throughout the land. The clouds above were cascading in a boisterous rhythm, signaling the coming of an intense storm. The wind was increasing in vehemency, sending large gusts of wind across the sea, disrupting the previously calm water. The sea was moving precariously, barely containing the immense power behind the mass of water. The waves were crashing against any solid land it could find; smashing the rock it could find vigorously whilst eroding away the symbol of strength that was stone.

The gale began to gain force, moving across the sea with transient power, searching out what it could destroy in its limited lifetime. Off in the distance you could see an island, silhouetted by the lightning flashes, giving the island a ghastly appearance, further complimented by the ominous spire rising high into the air, giving a presence of danger and death to the small island. If the average person could see the island, they would stay away from it; as far away as possible. To a wizard, it would be recognized instantly as Azkaban Fortress; wizard prison of infamous renown.

The sight of the lugubrious spire would be the only thing one would need to see to turn away and run as fast as possible. The insides of the ominous island, however, are the things that no one should ever see or experience. Azkaban was home to two things: prisoners, and dementors. Prisoners inside the prison were sent there for a number of reasons. Most of the prisoners were there because they were Death Eaters, followers of the Dark Lord of the times, Voldemort. A few prisoner were there because they used an Unforgivable curse on another human. Another group of prisoners were there unjustly. In the years to come, it would be revealed that a certain amount of politicians had their own agendas in mind instead of justice. Such was the case of one of the wrongfully imprisoned on this forlorn island. The man who was in the topmost cell of the spire. The man sent here without a thorough investigation. Without regard to his age. Without sufficient evidence. The man named Harry Potter.

He was held in the highest security area of the prison, high atop what some prisoners who were released affectionately called the Tower of Ruination. No other person in the history of Azkaban had been held in the roof cell. It was an open cube, surrounded by bars only two inches apart from the next. The top of the cell was a metal sheet, dented and rusted from the time atop the spire. The previous Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, thought of Harry Potter as the highest security risk to ever be encountered.

Looking around the barren flat on top of the tower, one would wonder where the guards were. The dementors, guards of Azkaban, were nowhere to be seen around Harry Potter's cell. The Aurors, who were backup in case the dementors ever went back to Voldemort (the summer of 1996 they went into Voldemort's service) again, didn't know why they stayed away from Harry Potter's cell so much. No one knew why they came back in the first place, but the greater mystery was why they stayed away from him. All they knew is that it didn't seem like their presence was necessary when it came to Harry Potter. He seemed to be under their effects even when they weren't there.

As the rain began to fall on the island, the wind carried it toward the cell on top of the spire, flaying Harry's skin as he sat slumped in a corner of his cell, mumbling incoherently to himself. The chilly temperature was magnified exponentially by the harsh wind and freezing rain striking his body. But, he sat there, seemingly unaware of the conditions he was facing, staring at the floor and mumbling... mumbling.

He was wearing a ripped and dirty gray one-piece jumpsuit. His trademark glasses were gone; snapped in two by an Auror when he was first thrown into his cell. His eyes were empty; like looking into the recesses of a black hole. They had lost the glimmer of life they had once held. The once vibrant green gone; now a dull looking black. His unkempt hair was scraggly and long, going almost to his waist. His bangs covered most of his face, and his dirty beard gave him the complete look of a dirty old man, but without gray hair. His scar was completely concealed behind the black tendrils that was his hair. The arms of the jumpsuit were ripped, giving full sight of his long, bony arms. His skin was pale and sullen. The veins in his arms giving a sharp contrast in the flashes of lightning.

Overall, his body itself was in decent shape. The assistance of age had filled his shoulders out slightly, he was now a intimidating six foot two inches, and his arms and legs were surprisingly fit. Not muscular by any means, but fit nonetheless. With the help of the stringent 'diet' of Azkaban, he had hardly any body fat, making him appear like a spindly puppet.

Despite what his physical condition was, however, he still had the look of a completely defeated man. He sat there, slumped in a corner, staring absently at the floor, an expressionless look on his face. It was a sad sight, and would have brought those with a weak stomach to tears.

_CRASH!_

Another lightning bolt strikes in the distance, sending another thunderclap through the sky, resounding all around the sea. The wind was whistling, throwing rain in every which way, pelting the walls of Azkaban with a torrent of water from the sky. The waves below smashed against the island, creating a green spume in the water. The darkness of the night pervaded the island; subdued only by the light of the lightning. The flashes inside the prison reminding some of the still sane prisoners that they were still alive.

_CRASH!_

Another bolt of lightning, closer to the island this time. The wind choruses along with the thunder, like a symphony orchestrated by Mother Nature herself. The rain's bombardment on the walls of Azkaban is like an ambient beat that the wind and thunder follow in exact precision.

_CRASH!_

Another lightning strike, this time on the island's far south side. The sound is unfathomable, encompassing everything and everyone around it. The lightning's fading crackle still heard in the halls of the prison as the wind continues with its whistling accompaniment; the flash still present in the eyes of the Aurors on duty.

_CRASH!_

The lightning strikes the middle of the island, hitting part of the prison, sending chunks of rock and iron flying into the sea down below. The waves greedily gobble up the fragments of prison while they continue their assault on the island. The Aurors inside scramble in and out of the prison, sending the signal to evacuate.

While the Aurors down below are scrambling about like chickens who have just lost their head, Harry Potter was now looking out across the horizon. His eyes having a strange look to them. They seemed more vibrant than they had been since he was sent to this abominable place. He was waiting for something.

Up, high in the storm clouds, the faint crackling sound of imminent lightning began. Its ever increasing intensity inside the cloud reaching critical mass.

Harry looked up into the sky off toward the south, watching the clouds delicately dance in the sky.

He sat up, walked to the middle of his cramped cell, and looked up into the metal cover over his head. He took in a breath. He began to gather his magic. His body took on an ethereal glow of periwinkle.

"FREEDOM!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, his hair whipping around in the wind.

_CRASH!_

A bolt of lightning strikes the top of his cell, tearing asunder the metal sheet, showering the island with white hot fragments of metal. The worst of the storm is over, and the wind settles down, allowing the rain to fall at a more vertical angle. The top of the spire is now empty. Harry Potter's cell is gone; the bars are at the bottom of the sea, and the metal sheet that covered it is now in several different places across the island.

Lying face down in a rapidly accumulating puddle is Harry Potter. His wet hair slinking down his sides. Tomorrow, when the Aurors find his body, they'll see a smile on his lifeless face.

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**End (A/N):** Wow. That was fun. I'm going to enjoy this writing this story so much. Or maybe I'm going to enjoy the cliffhangers I'm going to torture all you readers with... hmmm... 

Sorry that this was so short, but I thought, '_It's just a prologue.'_ So this is all you get! But, I started the first chapter _before_ this prologue, so it's almost finished. And it's longer. 4000 words. And it's not even completed yet!

Yay! Questions and Answers.

**Question:** You're so mean with cliffhangers! Why?

**Answer:** Because cliffhangers are the best thing ever! Well, not really. I use them mainly because I like to keep a certain atmosphere of mystery about what's going on. Is Harry dead? What's with his magical aura? Why is he in Azkaban? Why did he scream 'freedom'? Why are the dementors staying away from him, and furthermore, why did they come back? What happened to his friends? What is going on with Voldemort? Why is the sky blue?

See? MYSTERY! Ooh! Aah!

**Question: **What book/year is this based off of?

**Answer:** The book is OOTP. And yes, there will be spoilers from that book, but if you're reading Harry Potter fanfiction, why haven't you read _that_ book yet? And the way I've set up the time line is like this: post-OOTP, then a AU sixth year, then Harry is sent to Azkaban. This storm happens nearly 5 years after he was sent to Azkaban. So OOTP fifth year at Hogwarts + AU at Hogwarts + 5 years of imprisonment 21 year old Harry in the year 2002. And so you're not confused, Harry was sent to Azkaban at the _end _of sixth year.

**Question:** Is this story connected in any way to your other story, Rectitude?

**Answer:** No, it's not.

Well, I think that's all the questions you could ask about the story. You'll notice my amazing skills in question dodging in the first answer. I asked a lot of the questions in an answer so I wouldn't have to answer them! Muhahaha!

I'll be updating this (and Rectitude) soon. Happy reading!


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